Let Me Light Up The Sky For You
by springofthedandelions
Summary: This is set in Deathly Hallows when Ron argues with Harry and leaves the tent. This is his story. A touch of Romione.
1. Anger

The anger coursing through Ron's veins seemed to radiate heat and despite the rain that was pelting down on him, he felt hot and wanted nothing more than to sit down and catch his breath. But he couldn't do that; Hermione would be after him in a second and he had to get beyond their protective enchantments before he could Apparate. He did not want to see or speak to her, his anger being towards her as well as Harry. No sooner had he thought about her did he hear her calling.

"Ron! Please – come back!" He scoffed to himself as he blundered through the trees, his trip to the edge of their campsite made all the more difficult due to the rain and the trees. She didn't want him back, he knew that now. She had made her decision and he couldn't pretend it didn't hurt him that she had chosen Harry.

Finally Ron found the edge of the campsite where the charms stopped working and he stepped over an invisible line that he knew he could not go back over. Why would he want to anyway? He contemplated walking somewhere but having no real idea where he was, he attempted Apparating. Sight and sound disappeared and Ron focused on a random street not far from the Burrow, his desire to be home overwhelming him suddenly. Darkness pressed in on him for what seemed like forever and he was pleased to feel his feet on solid ground. He glanced around the supposedly deserted street and started walking in the general direction of his childhood home. It was then that the guilt set in.

He had left Harry, his best friend who Ron had said multiple times that he would help, but more importantly he had left Hermione. The feelings he had for her, no matter how he had tried to push them aside in the past, now made him hate himself. He had left her and that's all there was to it. Doubt started to creep in to the corners of his mind about Harry and Hermione – was he just imagining it? Not that his anger had disappeared slightly he realised how stupid he had been.

He was supposed to be there for his friends – not matter what – and Ron had left the second things got hard. He turned a corner and kicked at a stone lying on the ground, attempting to let out his frustrations but it only made him angry again when he missed it completely. He picked it up and threw it. As it sailed through the air and across the road, he saw that it was the same size as the locket.

The locket. Everything seemed to click horribly into place as Ron kept walking down the street, ignoring the people who sat in the park across the road. He knew it affected them all, altered their moods and made them lash out at each other but for some reason it appeared to affect him more and the dark thoughts that plagued him while he had worn it disturbed him. Why hadn't he seen it before? He recalled every incident where he had felt anger towards Harry and Hermione and each time he remembered wearing the locket. The doubt that he had felt earlier now took him over and he sighed loudly to himself, only vaguely aware that he people who had been sat at the park were walking down the street. He knew he wanted to go back – he had long decided that – he just wasn't sure if his Apparating skills were up to it. They had always relied on Hermione. He stopped where he was and reached for his wand that sat in his front pocked before a loud voice startled him and he whirled around.

"Don't move!" It seemed the group were following him and Ron stared at them and their grinning faces. There were 5 of them and they didn't look much older than twenty. The one nearest to Ron who had spoken was watching him carefully and Ron noticed then that he was pointing a wand at him.

"What do you want?" Ron growled, sounding braver than he felt.

"Me and my buddies here was just wonderin' why you wasn't at school?" The same man asked and the others behind him nodded eagerly. "Only, this time of year kids your age 'sposed to be at Hogwarts, innit?"

"Hogwarts?" Ron repeated stupidly, desperately trying to think of something to get him out of the situation he had found himself in. "Why would I be there?"

The sarcastic tone in his voice was not missed by the man and he took a menacing step closer, his teeth bared. "What's your name?"

The smell of him hit Ron as the man stepped closer and he had to fight to keep his face straight as the stench invaded his nostrils. "Stan Shunpike." He had no idea where the name had come from but a moment later he was pleased as two of the others looked shocked and took a step back.

"Stan?" The man in the front grunted and peered at Ron. He was clearly the ringleader and he gestured to one of the others who moved forward. "Hold him."

Ron didn't have time to react as the man grabbed him roughly and held his arms tightly. Another man came up and took his wand from his pocked; Ron growled at how helpless he now was. He struggled for only a second before he saw a fight happening in front of him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Greyson." One of the other men who had stepped back when the name Stan had been mentioned was now speaking to the first man and Ron watched carefully. "If this is Stan – we could be in serious trouble if we bring him in to the Ministry."

"That's not really up t'you now, is it?" Greyson growled, his voice louder than it had been before. He made to turn back towards Ron but the other man reached out and held on to his arm.

"You keep leading us into trouble – I think it's time someone else – " The rest of his sentence was cut off by the sound of the first man punching him and in a split second, chaos took over.

The two men started fighting and were throwing punches faster than Ron could take in. The man holding on to him relaxed his grip ever so slightly and Ron took his chance. While everyone's eyes were on the two fighting men, he used his elbow and forced it back hard into the man's stomach. He grunted and let go of Ron who then took his wand, pointing it at the man holding his own.

"Expelliarmus!" He cried and with the skills of a seeker – something he knew Harry would be proud of he thought with a pang – he watched his wand fly into his outstretched hand. Realisation shocked the pair fighting and Ron caught their angry looks before he was ripped out of the air, his mind focusing on the area he hoped Harry and Hermione were still at.

The pain came as soon as the darkness disappeared and his feet touched ground. Though he knew immediately that he had been Splinched, Ron also knew it wasn't serious. Sharp, shooting pains came from his right hand and he brought it up to his face to assess it. There was no blood which he was thankful for and he then spotted two missing fingernails. He inspected them closely, the early morning providing little light and shrugged his shoulders. It could have been much worse.

Finally he looked around at his surroundings and felt his heart drop a little. While he had known he couldn't Apparate directly into their campsite, he had tried to get as close as possible but now realised he was miles away from the riverbank. He stared hard in all four directions, the sun now slowly rising though it was hidden behind clouds and providing a dim light for Ron. Trees met his eyes in all four directions and he knew he needed to get out of it if he wanted to find them. Deciding to try his luck with Apparating again, he closed his eyes hard and clenched his fists tightly. A shot of pain travelled up his right arm and he remembered his fingernails; he did not want to Splinch himself again. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the riverbank and spun on the spot.

This time when he opened his eyes he heard water and glanced around wildly. He was still surrounded by trees but there weren't as many this time and to his left he could just see a clearing that might help him work out how close he was. Hitching his bag on his back, he set off into a run, dodging trees and narrowly missing a tree stump that almost tripped him over. He stumbled for a second before getting his footing back and after a few minutes the trees opened out into the clearing and Ron stopped, gasping and trying to get his breath back.

Recognition kicked him and he walked to the edge of what he now realised was a cliff and with a leap of pleasure, he saw the river. Thought it was not the stretch they had camped on, he knew he was close and almost grinned. He looked up at the sky and hoped they hadn't packed up and moved on already.

Desperation and a sense of urgency to find them filled him but now he felt something else and with an ugly look he realised he was scared. Would they want him back? He had been angry – furious – but did that excuse what he had said and done? Drawing himself up, he let out a breath. He would face it whether they were angry or not. With a grim look he shut his eyes and Apparated once more.

With a triumphant yell he realised he was just metres away from where they had camped and he ran forward, calling out to them both.

"Harry! Hermione! Where are you?" His voice was as loud as he could make it and though he heard it echoing, that was all he heard. Refusing to let himself feel disappointment, he kept calling, screaming only Hermione's name now until his throat hurt because after all, though he had come back for both of them, his feelings for her were becoming startlingly clearer and he felt a desperate urge to see her face and to hear her voice. Tears stung his eyes as he ran around in circles yelling with all of his might until his voice cracked and broke. Ron sunk down onto the stones as he gave in to disappointment and felt it was over him as the tears now slid down his face freely.

They had left, moved on to somewhere else that he knew there was no way he could possibly find, and he now felt loneliness as he stared around at the deserted bank. It did nothing to help him and he clenched his fists in anger, ignoring the bite of pain where he had lost his fingernails and felt at a loss of what to do next. He knew there was no way he could go back to school. Walking into Hogwarts as Harry Potter's best friend when Voldemort was out to kill him, Snape was the Headmaster and said best friend was on the run wouldn't bode well and besides all of that, Ron couldn't handle being at school when he knew Harry and Hermione were out hunting Horcruxes.

With Hogwarts ruled out, the only other place he could think of was his easier plan of the Burrow though now he could see the flaws. When he had left the tent and Apparated, intent on going home, his anger had clouded everything else and all he had wanted was to collapse into his bed, happy knowing that his mother would cook him breakfast in the morning. Now however, he knew with heartbreaking clarity that he could not go home until this whole war was over. Aside from the fact that he was supposed to be sick with spattergroit, his family was no doubt being watched by several Death Eaters, a direct result of having such a close connection to the Boy Who Lived.

Ron knew he wouldn't be able to find Harry and Hermione now – he had no way of knowing where they had gone or where they were planning to go and although he wanted to keep searching until he found them, he knew in his heart that it was pointless. With no food, shelter or any idea what he was doing he felt helpless and although the tears had long dried on his face, the anger and regret he was feeling almost caused them to fall again. He swallowed the bitter laugh that hung around in his throat at the thought of what his brothers would say when they found out he had ditched his two best friends and left them in the middle of nowhere.

Ron's head snapped up as an idea slowly started to form in his mind. Though it was partly how his family would react to him being home, the main reason he couldn't go to the Burrow was the Death Eaters that would be watching. There was however a place he could go that he was sure the Death Eaters didn't know about and where he wouldn't get to much grief for leaving – he hoped.

He felt a small sense of sadness at leaving the riverbank, it being the last place he had seen Harry and Hermione and a part of him wanted to stay just in case they came back – to look for him, maybe? – but he knew he was fooling himself. Standing up from the stones he had been sitting on for the last ten minutes he brushed himself off and made sure he had a tight hold on his bag. Bill had told him roughly where his and Fleur's cottage was and Ron focused as hard as he could on the two words Shell Cottage as he turned on the spot.

The sound of water met his ears though this time it was the crashing of waves and he felt relief. Opening his eyes he saw the cottage not far away and he ran for it, overcome with the need to see and speak to someone he knew. As the door to the cottage loomed closer, he felt a rush of affection for his older brother and knocked hard on the door as he reached it.

"Ron?" The disbelief in Bill's voice was clear but the two brothers hugged fiercely, the younger of the two feeling temporarily safe. "What are you doing here? Where are Ron and Hermione?"

Ron had expected the question and had even partly prepared an answer but the gravity of what he had done hit him at full force and must have shown on his face as Bill pulled him inside and shut the door. Ron followed him into a small living room and although he was nervous about telling Bill what had happened, he admired the light colouring of the room and it, coupled with the distant sound of the ocean, almost calmed him. Almost.

"Bill? Who eez it?" Fleur appeared in the doorway and her face showed shock as her eyes fell on Ron. "Oh, Ronald. Salut." A look passed between Bill and Fleur and the latter disappeared.

"What's going on?" Bill's expression was unreadable and as much as Ron wanted to not tell him a thing, he knew he had to. "Where are they?"

"I left them." His words were hollow, dark, and they sounded as ugly as they tasted. "It – it got too much for me; not knowing how you guys all were – how Mum and Dad – anything could have happened!" The desperate way with which he pleaded made him sick but he couldn't help it. He couldn't describe the locket and the way it made him feel towards Harry and Hermione, he could only hope that Bill would attempt to understand.

"Everyone's okay." Bill said shortly and Ron was thankful for this piece of information.

"I wanted to go back – I did go back but they'd already left." Ron hung his head and focused on holding back the tears that threatened to fall. A fresh wave of regret and guilt was washing over him and it hurt him to remember Hermione calling his name through the darkness. There was silence as Bill processed his words and Ron avoided his eye. He had always got on well with Bill; when he was younger he was the brother Ron would turn to if Fred and George were picking on him whereas Charlie would have joined in with the twins. Now he wondered whether it would mean anything that they used to be so close – he had left his friends, those he had sworn to help and there was no hiding from the hard stare of his older brother.

"You shouldn't have left." Bill said evenly, his tone hard to read and Ron nodded; he didn't want to talk anymore. All he wanted was to hear what Bill had to say and then fall into a bed and sleep. Hopefully when he woke up the war would be over. He almost laughed at the stupidity of his thoughts. "It must have been really hard for you to leave."

It was not a sarcastic comment and Ron felt a slight relief. "Bill, I regret it so – "

"I know." Bill interrupted and the two brothers shared a look of grim understanding. "Are you hungry?"

The moment he said the word Ron heard his stomach growl loudly and he gave Bill a sheepish look. "Sorry." He muttered, the word having more than one meaning.

"Don't apologise to me. I think you have enough guilt to live with. You aren't going to eat us out of house and home now come and get some lunch."

Ron ate gratefully, the bread and soup Fleur served being the best meal he had had in weeks and he happily accepted seconds. When he finished, Bill took him upstairs to a bedroom and shut the door, leaving Ron alone. He dumped his bag and glanced out the window at the garden. He almost wished he had a view of the sea, sure that it would distract him enough to not think about what he had done but as he sunk into the bed and closed his eyes, all he saw was Harry, angry and yelling, and Hermione, the sound of her sobbing voice calling his name. He drifted into an uneasy sleep, thoughts of his two best friends following him into his dreams as exhaustion took him over.


	2. Regret

Though it was only early afternoon when he had crawled into bed, Ron slept right through dinner and into the night, not waking once. It wasn't until the early hours – around five am – that he woke up wide awake as if someone had shaken him. He sat up in the bed and glanced out of the window, the light beginning to cover the ground. Ron sighed and climbed out of bed – there was no way he could go back to sleep now. He opened his door and peered into the hallway. Snoring from the door opposite his told him that Bill – and most likely Fleur too – were still sleeping. He was still in his clothes from the night before and pulled the door closed behind him as he left his room and crept down the stairs.

The cottage was quaint and peaceful and he realised he was picturing himself living in a place like this. After the war – if it was ever over – it would be the ideal place to settle down and relax. Briefly he wondered if Hermione would join him.

Everything came rushing back to him in an instant and for a moment he felt overwhelmed with regret so much so that he felt as if he couldn't breathe properly. He left out the front door and spotted the edge of the cliff that the cottage sat on. He made his way over and sat slightly back from the edge; he felt a prickle of fear at the drop in front of him.

Now that he was inhaling fresh air he felt a slight calm come over him at the sight of the ocean spread out in front of him. His thoughts turned back to Hermione and the idea of the pair of them living somewhere as peaceful as Shell Cottage. As he gazed out at the view Ron wondered if that was even possible now that he had left them. More than ever now he wished they hadn't left the riverbank so soon so that he could have met up with them again. He knew they would be angry – Harry especially – but the longer he was away, the harder it would be to go back to them. As well as that, he had no idea where to start; he only knew he was going to find them.

He heard himself sigh and picked at a stone on the ground. He had always been confused when it came to his feelings for Hermione. When he was dating Lavender he had enjoyed the idea of having a girlfriend despite Hermione's anger towards him for it. It all seemed to change when Hermione supposedly started going out with Cormac and he felt a rage he had never felt before. It was then he truly realised his feelings for Hermione went deeper than he had ever thought.

His cheeks almost turned red at the thought of love because really, he couldn't love her, could he? Ron went back over all of their arguments, periods when they weren't talking to each other – usually because of something _he _had done – and scoffed. That wasn't love, surely. They fought like mad and almost always found something to disagree on. But now something else was making him think more about it.

The moments when they _didn't_ argue or want to rip at each other's throats they actually got on – of course they did, they had been friends for years – but Ron saw more to it now. Hermione clearly enjoyed his company or she wouldn't put up with him – and maybe there _was _something between them. His thoughts confused him but he knew he felt something for her – especially recently – he just had no idea what she felt in return. With a jolt he remembered he calling his name into the darkness and following him into the rain. The slight possibility that she might like him gave him the tiniest dash of hope and only made him want to find Harry and Hermione more.

As the sun rose in front of him – the view was quite breathtaking – he remembered what he had seen between his two friends – or what he had thought he had seen – and with a twist of his stomach everything he had said echoed in his head.

'_We thought you knew what you were doing! We thought Dumbledore had told you what to do, we thought you had a real plan!'_

Granted, everything he had said had been true. He thought Harry would have more to go on but he wished now he could take it back. The pressure on their shoulders was immense but nothing compared to what Harry had to worry about and as his best friend, Ron knew he should have been more appreciative of that. As for what he _thought _he had seen between Harry and Hermione, he was now wondering more and more if it had been the locket, coupled with his imagination and confusion over his feelings for Hermione that made him think there was something between them.

'_I get it. You choose him.'_

Ron hung his head in his hands and sighed. He made a huge mess of things, quite possibly damaged his relationships with both Harry and Hermione beyond repair and all he wanted was to get back so he could begin to make things right but even that seemed impossible.

"Ronald?" The delicate sound of Fleur's voice did not startle him and he turned around to see him standing behind him, a soft expression on her face. "Your brother wants to talk to you and I 'ave made you something to eat."

"Thanks, Fleur." He mumbled and stood up, sending her a smile that betrayed every feeling he had inside. He followed her silently back to the cottage and found Bill at the kitchen table; bacon, eggs and toast in front of him.

"Did you sleep okay?" His brother asked and Ron shrugged as he sat down with him. Bill pushed the food towards him and Ron muttered another thanks.

"It's really nice out here, huh." Ron said, avoiding Bill's eyes and helping himself to something to eat.

"We like it, yeah." Bill said quietly and stood up. Ron ate quickly as he watched Bill make a coffee for them both. He accepted it happily.

"Fleur said you wanted to talk?" Ron said finally and Bill nodded.

"I have news – nothing bad." He added hastily as Ron's head shot up in alarm. "Just things that have happened recently that you should know about. But first I want to know what you've been up to."

Bill watched Ron closely and the latter felt as if he was being pulled from two sides. He wanted more than anything to share with his brother what Harry had to do, partly because he may be able to help and partly just to get it off of his chest. It pained him to shake his head and hear Bill sigh.

"I can't, Bill. I want to, but I really can't. Dumbledore told Harry not to tell anyone except Hermione and me, sorry." Ron said and Bill looked as if he wanted to protest but didn't.

"Fair enough, I guess. Do you know where they are though?" Bill asked and Ron shook his head again.

"No, but I wish I did. It makes finding them all the more harder." He told him and Bill raised his eyebrows.

"You're going back?" He questioned before sipping his coffee.

"Yeah, I am." Ron said firmly and Bill nodded.

"Good. Now, do you know about the Taboo?" At Bill's words, Ron's expression turned to confused as he sipped his own coffee. 'Well, I hope Harry knows – they've put a Taboo on You-Know-Who's name. Anybody who says it can be tracked instantly and it breaks any and all protective charms that you've put up."

Ron's mouth hung open at the news and he set his mug down. So that was how they were found in the middle of London after fleeing the wedding. "You're kidding?"

"I wish I was. They almost got Kingsley the other day – he's on the run now – he only just managed to escape by cursing the Death Eater's that cornered him." Bill said, shaking his head.

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed, the idea of it making perfect sense to him; only a select few people used his name – Harry included – and the majority were Order members.

"Yeah, so watch what you say. Have you guys been listening to _Potterwatch_?" Ron looked perplexed at Bill's question and he continued to talk. "It's a radio show that lets people know what's going on, only it tells the truth, not the rubbish the Ministry is coming out with."

"_Potterwatch_? Never heard of it." Ron commented and sculled the rest of his coffee. "Have you heard from others in the Order?"

"Bits. It's not easy to communicate these days. Tonks and Lupin were here the other night though – she's starting to really show now – so we see the others sometimes." Bill told him and Ron looked down at the table as he remembered Lupin's visit to Grimmauld Place. "Mum and Dad are okay – as okay as they can be with what's going on. Dad hasn't been to work for awhile but that's beside the point really – nowhere is safe anymore."

His last four words echoed in Ron's head and he fell into thought. What if Harry and Hermione were captured? Though he would then know where they were, it wouldn't be under the best circumstances and he dreaded to think what the Death Eaters would do to Hermione – a Muggleborn. With a dark look on his face he knew already what they would do to Harry and shook the thought from his mind.

"What are you going to do at Christmas?" Ron asked. He had glanced at a copy of the Daily Prophet when he had spoken with Bill in the living room after his arrival and had seen that it was already December. Time had flown by when he was camping with Hermione and Harry.

"We were going to Mums." Bill started before looking around and lowering his voice. "I don't really think Fleur wants to, though. We might just stay here with you – give Mum an excuse."

Ron was grateful for this; as much as he missed the rest of his family and longed to see them, he knew they wouldn't be anywhere near as understanding as Bill had been about leaving his two best friends. He almost shuddered at the thought of what Ginny would do if she knew he had left Harry.

Ron settled into an easy routine at Shell Cottage; he would wake late, have lunch, talk with Bill or Fleur, and maybe go for a walk before having dinner and turning in for the night. It seemed, if viewed from the outside, like the perfect life but it was far from it. Daily the guilt followed him and he couldn't escape how horrible it made him feel. He constantly wracked his brains for ways to find them but nothing seemed to work. He had no idea where they were and though he knew an owl would most likely find them, it was also incredibly dangerous and could lead to other people finding them as well. He had run out of ideas too quickly and couldn't ask anyone for help. He was lost.

The weather seemed to mirror his feelings as it got closer and closer to Christmas and grew colder. It rained most days, though Ron still went for walks, and the sun very rarely made an appearance. It turned the cottage into a lonely place and on days when Bill had things to do – 'Order things' he had said and had refused to let Ron join him or tell him what was going on – Ron found he spent all of his time gazing out the window and remembering his childhood and school years.

Never before had he wanted to re-live the past. Growing up picked on by older brothers was not something one wanted to get back to but now he would give anything to go back to a time when he didn't have to worry, when his best friend didn't have to save the Wizarding World and when he knew without a doubt that every night before he went to sleep that he and his family were safe. Knowing that that wasn't possible was disheartening and Ron hated that he was switched on enough to know that even if the war ended sometime soon, it would be a long time before things went back to normal.

The days seemed to blur and with him doing the same thing day in and day out, it was hard to tell each day from the last. When Bill had mentioned Lupin and Tonks visiting, Ron had gotten excited that he would be seeing different people everyday but no one had visited yet. Security measures were getting tighter and tighter as each day wore on and no one knew who to trust anymore. The Daily Prophet was reporting none of what was really going on and Bill would always return with more new of Muggles dying and witches and wizards being captured by Death Eaters.

The only two things that kept Ron sane was that his family were all safe and that he had heard nothing of Harry and Hermione – a sure sign that they were okay. He knew if Harry had been captured and killed, everyone would know about it. It was a dark but comforting thought.

A week before Christmas Ron was sitting outside after dinner. It had been raining all day and had finally let off – Ron had decided to make the most of it and had been sat outside for the better part of an hour. He had no idea what Bill was doing and Fleur had gone to stay with her parents for a few nights. He jumped suddenly as the door opened and Bill came out.

"Come and listen to _Potterwatch_." He said before turning on his heel and entering the cottage again, Ron following close behind. He could hear voices coming from the living room and the radio was crackling as they sat down to listen.

"Any that concludes the list of recent deaths and it is with deepest sympathy that we read those names." A quick look at Bill told Ron that none of the names were familiar to them and he turned his attention back to trying to work out who the voice was. "Now, we turn over to our regular contributor, Romulus, for Pals of Potter."

"Pals of Potter?" Ron asked incredulously, feeling slightly lighter at this small bit of amusement. Bill shushed him and they kept listening.

"Thanks, River." Ron recognized Lupin's voice with an excited look at Bill. "Not much to report since the last time I was here but again, I will stand by what I spoke about last time; Harry Potter is alive."

"For those that missed our last broadcast, Romulus told us all how Harry Potter is alive and it is definitely something you stand by, Romulus?" River asked and Ron finally recognised his voice as Lee, Fred and George's friend.

"Of course. There would be pandemonium if the Boy Who Lived had been killed – from both sides. The Death Eaters would be celebrating and those that have always stood by Harry would continue to do so. I also think people would be blinded by their grief and anguish at Harry's death that they would do rather foolish things." There was a short silence as everyone digested Lupin's words before he spoke again. "But I say this to everyone listening – Harry will never give up. He will continue to resist and fight back until this is over and that is what we must remember. We are behind him one hundred percent."

"Thank you, Romulus. Wise words, indeed." Said Lee and Ron felt more guilt at leaving his friend after hearing what Lupin had to say. He and Harry had argued back at Grimmauld Place yet he was here standing up for Harry and supporting him. "I'm afraid that we have come to the end of this broadcast. We will be broadcasting again as soon as we can and the next password will be _Scarhead _in honour of our lightening scarred friend. Keep safe and look out for each other. Goodnight."

The radio crackled and fell silent and the two brothers stared at it for a moment. "It's good, isn't it?" Bill said and Ron nodded, standing up to stare out the window. He couldn't stop going over what Lupin had said about sticking behind Harry because as his best friend, Ron should have stuck behind him one hundred and ten percent. It had started to get dark while they had been listening and as Ron stared outside, the rain started to fall again.

"About what Lupin said," Bill began and Ron sucked in a breath, bracing himself for whatever his brother was going to say. "Everything he said was right – we're all still behind Harry – but Ron, don't beat yourself up. Everybody makes mistakes."

"I left them, Bill. We fought and I said – I was horrible. Hermione was calling – and – I left." It was a raw moment. Ron hated being so open in front of anyone and rarely admitted his feelings to others but at that moment he couldn't help it. Bill was being too kind and Ron knew he didn't deserve it. "I have to find them." He said through gritted teeth.

"You're really going to try and find them?" Bill asked and Ron ignored the doubt in his brother's voice. The older Weasley sighed deeply. "Well, I can't stop you, I guess. I know I don't know Harry as well as you, but whatever you said to him, going back will mean a lot to him."

As he continued to gaze out the window, he heard Bill leave the room. The rain had really started to pour and as if pounded the window, Ron hoped his brother was right.


	3. Desperation

Christmas Eve was a quiet affair and Ron spent the day mostly alone – Bill and Fleur had left for Fleur's parents after lunch and wouldn't be back until after dinner. They had left him leftovers but by the time it came to dinner time, he found he wasn't hungry. He decided instead to go for a walk before they got home and knew he would most likely be in bed early tonight. The air was cold as he stepped outside and he was glad he had put on a scarf before leaving the cottage. The rain had stayed off for the last few days and as Ron looked up to the sky, clouds threatened to dampen the dry spell they had been having. He sped up his pace as he walked along the cliff edge – not too close – wanting to get some walking done before it rained too much.

His thoughts turned to the next day and he remembered with a painful feeling all of his past Christmases and how good they had been. It had always been the presents he had looked forward to, especially when he was younger, and he never really appreciated what an important time it was. Christmas had always been a time when his mum would play Celestina Warbeck on repeat, Fred and George would come up with endless pranks and Ginny would complain when she didn't get the new broomstick she had wanted – when they were younger, anyway. But even Christmas at Hogwarts had always been special and Ron now longed for the sight of the castle done up for the holiday.

His walk along the edge of the cliff took him away and back towards the cottage, but the path he was on twisted around behind the house and through trees. He had walked it before – it eventually led back to the cottage and it never took him long. Tonight the trees he walked through seemed different – almost scary – and he found himself speeding up again.

Ron wondered what Harry and Hermione were doing for Christmas, if anything. It had never seemed that much of a special time before now. It had always been a time of food, presents and decorations, over in a day and not thought about until the next year. What he would give to spend the holiday with his friends and family this year.

His thoughts were depressing and he shook his head, focusing on what he was doing and where he was walking He was almost at the end of the path; the trees were starting to thin out and the sound of the ocean was getting louder with each step Ron took. The cottage finally came into view and he saw a light on, telling him that Bill and Fleur were back.

"It's me." He called as he opened the door and heard Bill call back from the living room. He came in to see the pair sat on the couch together, the radio on Bill's knee as he tapped it with his wand and muttered words every few seconds. "Is there another broadcast?" Ron asked as he sat opposite them.

"Lupin mentioned something about a Christmas broadcast so we're just checking." Bill explained and Ron nodded.

"Did you want something to eat, Ron?" Fleur asked and made to get up but he shook his head.

"No, thanks. You've done too much for me, Fleur." He said gratefully and Fleur smiled as she settled back down on the couch and took Bill's spare hand in hers. The gesture made Ron feel strangely lonely and he turned his eyes away from it. "How were your parents?" He asked politely.

"Oui, they we're tres bien – as good as they can be with everything that's going on." Fleur told him and he didn't miss the sad tone to her voice.

"Can you remember what they said the last password was, Ron?" Bill asked distractedly and Ron nodded.

"Scarhead." The radio lit up in front of them and cracked in to life at Ron's words and the three of them stared at it expectantly.

"Good evening listeners and welcome to this special Christmas broadcast. We'll be missing Romulus tonight as he is spending time with his family like he much deserves. We will however have a short word from Royal." It was Lee's voice again and it was somewhat comforting. Ron looked up.

"Kingsley." Bill said to Ron's questioning look and a second later a deep voice came across the waves.

"Thank you, River. I am happy to say there are no new deaths to report and that is something that is quite an achievement. It's good news first, however. It seems Death Eaters are not ones to celebrate Christmas and there were reports of several of them looting Muggle stores."

"Any particular reason?"

"None other than the usual – they think they're better than everyone else and that the Muggles deserve it. We have heard that some magical folk in the area are protecting Muggle stores with enhanced security measures and we encourage everyone to do the same if possible." Kingsley told them and Ron wished there was something he could do to help. Hearing what was happening to other people and the fact that he did nothing but sit in the cottage all day made him feel even more miserable.

"That's good to hear, Royal." Lee commented.

"Indeed it is, River. I think it shows how wrong these Death Eaters are that no one shares their views of magical blood above muggle blood. We are all the same." There was a quick silence before Lee spoke again.

"Thank you very much Royal, for your time this evening. I'm afraid that is the end of our short broadcast. I want to wish you all a Merry Christmas. Stay safe and take care. Goodnight." The lights dimmed and then died, Ron still staring at it.

"I think we're going to head to bed." Bill said quietly and Fleur nodded in agreement, standing up and smiling at Ron.

"Goodnight, Ronald." She said and Ron smiled at her as she walked out of the room. Bill stood up too, nodding to his brother goodnight and leaving Ron alone. He sat there for a moment, feeling tired but knowing sleep wasn't going to be easy tonight. He could either sit here and think about anything and everything, or he could lie in bed and do the same thing. Bed would be much more comfortable.

The door to Fleur and Bill's room was already closed and Ron could hear them talking softly as he climbed up the stairs and went into his own room, closing the door quietly behind him. He sighed loudly as he lay on the bed, not bothering to get changed out of his clothes; sleep was not going to come to him easily tonight, he knew that already. His thoughts were running around his mind like crazy and he couldn't catch one to make sense of it. Hermione's face swum in front of him and he longed to hold her, tell her truthfully how he felt. Harry's angry face came next and Ron wanted nothing more than to make up for what he had said to him, apologize and make things right. It was the same thoughts that plagued him every day but now that it was Christmas Eve they seemed ten times worse. The guilt and regret that followed him around swallowed him whole and he felt tears sting his eyes before he realised what was happening. Wiping them away angrily he turned on his side and screwed his eyes shut, desperate to fall asleep and forget about everything.

But he was right in thinking that sleep wasn't going to happen. No matter how hard he fought to keep his mind off of his two best friends, all he could hear was their voices and all he could see were their faces. They tortured him, twisted his mind and made him think horrible things; what if one of them were dead? Not killed by Voldemort, but what if some terrible accident had happened. They could still be in hiding and no one would even know. The thought of Harry or Hermione dead and the other surviving – or not surviving – alone almost killed him and he felt hot tears slide down his face and no matter how much he wiped them away, they kept falling. The saltiness of them tasted like the regret Ron felt everyday and for a moment he thought he might throw up. After a few deep breaths, he stopped crying and dried his face, feeling incredibly stupid.

Emotional exhaustion took over then and before he realised, he was falling asleep. It wasn't an easy one however and he found himself waking over and over again through the night, only to turn over and go back to sleep. By the time his eyes opened and he knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep he guessed he had only had a few hours sleep. Glancing at the clock he saw it was almost five am and he sighed loudly. He looked around the dark room, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light before he reached for the Deluminator out of his pocket and staring at it. The useless object sat in his hands, doing nothing at all and Ron wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room. What was the point of it? He had barely used it at all and even now as he began to wake up properly, he found he didn't want to see it. Shoving it back in his pocket he decided to listen to the radio and climbed out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake his brother and Fleur.

The stairs threatened to creak under his feet but after staying there for a few weeks, he knew which ones to dodge and they were silent as he descended them. The radio sat on the table in the lounge and Ron picked it up, darting back upstairs and into his bedroom, flicking his light on as he passed the switch and lying on the bed with the radio balancing carefully on his stomach. With his wand he tapped it and it lit up, a song bursting out of it and Ron hurriedly turned it down. The song was a fast paced one and it annoyed him instantly. He set to turning the dials until he found one that was playing classical music and though he knew he would be teased mercilessly if anyone ever knew, he kept it there and let the bars of music float over him, closing his eyes. The music almost put him to sleep until he heard a voice that shocked him wide awake once more.

'_..Ron? When he broke his wand..' _Ron sat upright in the bed and looked around, though he knew she couldn't be in his room. Hermione's voice had been crystal clear and he realised suddenly that it hadn't come out of the radio as he had initially thought but his pocket and with a jolt, he pulled out his Deluminator again and stared at it. When it didn't do anything, he clicked it and his bedroom light when out. At the same time, a light appeared through the window out in the garden and Ron felt his mouth fall open in shock. It was a round, blue light and seemed to be pulsing, matching Ron's heartbeat as he stared at it with excitement welling inside him.

Scrambling off the bed, Ron reached for his shoes and shoved them on his feet, picking up his bag and leaving the bedroom. Once down the stairs – he had not bothered to skip stairs, instead running down them and stopping in the kitchen. He took a few pieces of fruit from the bench, a bottle of water and a block of chocolate and stuffed them in his bag. Finding a pen and paper on the bench, he scribbled a note to Bill and left out the front door, his excitement now taking him over. He had no idea what the ball of light meant but there was something that told him that this was important and as he stepped out into the crisp morning cold, he knew he was doing the right thing.

The walk around to the side of the house took seconds and he was thankful to see the ball of light still bobbing there. Slowly, he walked towards it but it started to move away. Ron followed it quickly, desperate to keep it in sight and as it disappeared around the side of the shed, Ron took the few steps to follow it there. He watched it for a moment before it came towards him and in a rush of warmth, it went straight into him. The effect was instant and he didn't even have to think about it before he turned on the spot and Disapparated.

The ground crunched beneath him as he landed and he realised it was snowing. The cold penetrated his close instantly and he shivered, the warmth of the light not as strong now. He glanced around, wishing that Harry and Hermione would appear before him as if by magic but he knew at the same time that it wouldn't be that easy, finding them wouldn't be that simple. The snow was light and he raked his eyes over his surroundings, searching for any sort of clue that would lead him to them. He realised he was on the side of a hill but that was no clue as to where he was at all so taking a deep breath, he used his voice.

"Harry! Hermione!" Ron screamed it as loud as he could, desperation heard in every word he yelled but he kept going, repeating the two names and moving slowly across the land and passing by trees. No matter how hoarse his voice seemed to get, he kept yelling. If they were here, surely they would hear him? He knew how clever Hermione was and that her protective spells blocked anyone from hearing the sound they made, but did it block sound coming in? He had no idea, and so kept yelling. The snow swirled around him and he was glad it wasn't thick as it would have only made it harder for him to see. "Harry!" His voice carried across the landscape but disappointment was starting to sink in.

If they could hear him, they would have shown themselves already. His voice wasn't as loud and was starting to hurt his throat to keep yelling. Ron had put all of his hope on the ball of light that had brought him here and he was still sure they were here. It was a strange feeling because he knew he was in the right place but at the same time, doubt was starting to creep in; where were they? After one last yell of both their names, he pulled his sleeping bag out of his bag and curled up against a tree, his eyes peeled for any sign of movement. Thankful that he had had Hermione as a friend over the years, he muttered a spell to keep himself warm and the snow off, and settled in for the morning.

Ron knew from his time with them that they would most likely leave in the early hours of the morning and so had to fight of the sleep that threatened to overcome him. The lack of sleep the night before was catching up with him now and his eyes wanted to close with every blink. He was tempted to pull out his wand to try and do something that would keep him entertained but he had no idea what he could do. He settled for thinking about Hermione, as painful as it was, to pass the time.

In a rush, every memory he had of her came back to him and he found himself smiling at the thought of her. He remembered everything about her; her voice, her hair, the way she moved. The little things like how her nose scrunched up slightly when she was really concentrating on what she was writing or how she got so upset over Ron's spelling mistakes. He almost laughed at that one – the sight of Hermione frowning as she went over an essay of his was something that happened regularly and he found he missed it. He remembered the beginning of their fourth year when Hermione had been staying with them for the Quidditch World Cup and he had bumped into her on her way out of the bathroom. Her cheeks had turned pink but they were no match for Ron's which turned a flaming shade of red. He barely had time to mutter a 'sorry' before she dashed off in her towel. He later questioned as to why she was coming out of the bathroom without her clothes before realising she must have forgotten them. His cheeks had turned slightly pink at the memory and he wondered if that was when he had really started to develop feelings for her.

The Yule Ball came back to him suddenly and he sighed deeply. His jealously over Hermione going with Krum had shown him – and probably everyone else – that there was something between him and Hermione, he just had no idea what it was. The memories started to pain him as he remembered all the arguments they had had over the years, especially as most of them were his fault.

Sitting in the cold snow, despite the spells he had cast, his pain he felt at missing Hermione now felt like a physical pain and he shivered. It seemed crazy to him to feel so strongly for her but with each breath, he missed her. With each moment that passed that he wasn't with her it now felt as if there was some part of him missing and sitting in the cold fighting to stay awake was not doing anything to help make him feel better. Ron leaned his head back against the tree and sighed deeply, letting his eyes close for just a moment and before he knew it, he had fallen into an uncomfortable sleep.


End file.
